return to dust

there should be a special place in our hearts for friends from the opposite sex.

we don't always have to fuck them. they're not always attractive. they're not always the right complement to how we want to build our future. there are roles people play in our lives, and we can't have them all in one person.

we probably can? if we lower our standards enough? if we overestimate humanity's capacity for change?

i still believe in magic. but i've changed my view in believing that magic is found in little pockets of serendipity, rather than an overt life-changing event worthy of epic closing credits. i'm happy when i discover them. i cherish them with people whom i share those moments. they're like fairy dust sparsely sprinkled all throughout my life.

i don't make a big deal out of it because they're ultimately just dust. my mere mortality can barely affect things outside of my imagination. even my own actions can only do so much.

because for dust to mean something, divine intervention must breathe life into them.

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